


A Part of Your Legend

by Katyakora



Series: Killerwave Week [4]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Beauty and the Beast Elements, F/M, KillerWaveWeek2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 01:55:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7133837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katyakora/pseuds/Katyakora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mick never really believed the stories of the Queen trapped in ice on the mountain top.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Part of Your Legend

**Author's Note:**

> For KillerWave Week 1 Day 4 - Royalty AU
> 
> This was originally very different, but I realised I couldn't tell the story I wanted to without a minimum five chapters, so you get a variant on the Beauty and the Beast instead.

Granted, Mick is no expert, but he’s fairly certain this isn’t how the story is supposed to go.

 

“Hey!” he bellowed over the roar of rushing wind. “You know I ain’t a princess, right?”

 

“That’s ok!” Came the cheerful reply. “You’re not for me!”

 

Grumbling, Mick tried to summon his fire. Once again, it was absolutely useless against the wyvern’s stone hide. Mick would have thought it was a gargoyle if he hadn’t seen the damn thing move, or more importantly, speak. Clutched tightly in it’s talons, flying steadily up the mountain, Mick was seriously starting to regret refusing the guard his half-brother had wanted to send with him. King Leonard had argued that the mountains were full of bandits and strange beasts, to which Mick had scoffed and stated he was the scariest thing on the mountain. He’d been certain that the rumours about the Winter Palace were just stories. The tale went that the young King of Matrice had come home from a long journey with a beautiful bride to make his queen. But he had been killed on the night of her coronation by a jealous sorcerer, who cursed the queen inside a prison of ice and turned everyone she cared for into hideous beasts. The kingdom was run these days by an old steward, once King Ronald’s best friend and closest advisor, who awaited the day the queen was freed so she might claim her kingdom. Mick figured it was all hyperbole, a spurned suitor slaying the king and the queen wasting away in her grief. Besides, Steward Stein had been running the kingdom for almost five decades. Anyone left at that remote castle would likely be long dead.

 

The stone wyvern currently abducting him made him wonder if maybe there was some truth to the tale after all. 

 

The distant towers of the Winter Palace rose majestically through the clouds and heavy snow, getting steadily closer. Fifty years of neglect showed in missing roof tiles and cracked stone. Oddly, there was some damage that appeared to have been intention, leaving deep gouges in the stone. The wyvern aimed for the main courtyard, dropping Mick into a snowdrift so that he could land without crushing him. Mick’s eyes shifted between the beast and the main gate, one half of which was hanging off it’s hinges.

 

“I wouldn’t run if I were you,” the wyvern cautioned. “You won’t make it far in this weather.” Still, Mick was considering it. After all, he had no idea what the wyvern planned to do with him. “Look,” it said imploringly after a moment. “All you have to do is meet her. After that, I’ll fly you back down the mountain myself.” After a minute’s deliberation, Mick nodded begrudgingly. “Yes!” the wyvern crowed, pumping one wing like it was a fist and almost tripping itself. “C’mon, this way.”

 

Shaking his head at the odd beast, Mick followed it inside.

 

The castle’s once lavish interior was coated in dust and snow, somehow just as cold on the inside as it was outside. Mick was grateful for his inner flame, it kept him comfortable despite the chill. He noted more gouges in the floor and walls, deep marks too large to have been caused by the wyvern’s talons. There were pieces of knocked over furniture and scattered brick-a-brack dotting the floor. He bent, picking up a masterfully crafted sword, examining the rubies set in the hilt with interest.

 

“That was King Ronald’s,” the wyvern informed him, his tone hushed and remorseful. “Put it back. She won’t be happy if she sees you with it.”

 

“Who is ‘she’?” Mick asked, begrudgingly laying the beautiful sword back down and following once more.

 

“You’ll see,” it responded cryptically, stopping in front of a massive set of doors. “Before I forget, what’s your name?”

 

“Mikhail, of Keystone,” Mick ground out reluctantly. The wyvern pushed the door open a crack and stuck his head through, whispering at someone on the other side. After a moment, he pulled his head back in and addressed Mick. 

 

“OK, you can go in.” 

 

Shooting the smiling wyvern a dubious look, Mick slipped through the open door. On the other side he found a vast ballroom, in a similar state of disrepair and disarray as the rest of the palace. Mick stood at the top of an ornately carved marble staircase, which he slowly began to make his way down, keeping one eye out for whoever ‘she’ was. At the centre of the ballroom, someone had piled up an impressive stack of boulders, liberally covered in snow thanks to the holes in the roof. As Mick reached the bottom of the stairs, a voice suddenly echoed through the room.

 

“Announcing Prince Mikhail of the Kingdom of Keystone!” The carved marble sphinx perched on the banister looked entirely unimpressed by Mick’s startled glare. “C’mon, man, give me a break; I haven’t had to formally announce anyone in forever. Although, tell me the truth, did I overdo it?” Mick was saved from having to answer that by the pile of snow-covered stones  _ moving _ .

 

Those were not stones. That was a  _ dragon. _ It’s horn-crowned head rose up on a long slender neck, it’s body stretching out of the curled position it had lain in. Pearly scales dusted with blue stretched over strong limbs and delicate, expansive wings. Sapphire blue eyes pinned Mick in place with a stare. Mick had never seen such a magnificent creature before, so he thought his reaction was rather reasonable.

 

“My god, you’re beautiful.”

 

“Oh,” the dragon responded dumbly, apparently a little stunned by his awestruck exclamation. “Thank you?” Her voice was clearly feminine, leading Mick to assume this was the ‘she’ the wyvern had mentioned. She lowered her head to his height and stepped a little closer, looking more curious than threatening. “What are you doing here?”

 

Mick raised an eyebrow at that. “Your pet wyvern kidnapped me.”

 

“Dammit, Barry!” the dragon muttered with a long-suffering sigh. “He’s not my pet, he’s my friend. He means well, they all do.” She turned a glare on the sphynx. “Cisco, I thought we put a stop to this nonsense forty years ago?”

 

The sphynx cowed a little. “Barry saw him crossing the pass alone. It was too good an opportunity to pass up!” he insisted. “C’mon, Caitlin, just one last try?”

 

“Ugh, fine!” she groaned with a sigh, turning back to Mick. “Alright, let’s get this over with.” However, Mick was a little distracted by what the sphynx had just said.

 

“Wait, Caitlin? As in Queen Caitlin, from the legend?”

 

“Yeah,” she answered tiredly. “That’s me.”

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be imprisoned in ice?”

 

“What do you call this?” she snarled, her wings snapping open in a gesture that encompassed their every surrounding. “I can’t leave this mountain! I can’t change form! I was a  _ firedrake  _ and he turned me into an  _ ICEWYRM _ ! I haven’t felt real warmth in over fifty years!”

 

“I can help with that,” Mick cut off her tirade. 

 

“What?” she demanded, blinking in surprise at him.

 

“Heat is kinda my thing,” he said by way of explanation. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, reaching for his magic and letting his inner flame grow until it was a blazing fire. He didn’t see the ice and snow surrounding him melt into puddles, nor did he hear the fascinated dragon approach, but he felt when she tucked her vast body around him, sighing in bone-deep satisfaction as his heat emanated through her.

 

“Thank you,” she whispered, a tear spilling down her cheek. He reached out and wiped it away, in the end petting her snout soothingly as she purred happily. A noise caught Mick’s attention and he glanced up. The staircase was almost crowded, various statues and carvings jostling for position, trying to get a good look at what was happening on the ballroom floor. 

 

“What are they waiting for?” he asked, frowning. Caitlin opened her eyes, blinking at the gathered crowd.

 

“They’re waiting to see if you break the spell.”

 

“And how am I supposed to do that?” Mick was a firemage, that form of magic didn’t generally lend itself well to curse-breaking. Caitlin sighed.

 

“You have to kiss me.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Really.”

 

“The guy couldn’t think of anything more original?”

 

“My scales freeze anything I touch. You’re the first human who’s been able to touch me for more than a second since I was cursed,” she explained, a little apologetically.

 

“Alright then.” Mick shrugged and planted a kiss on the end of her snout. The dragon froze and all the gathered statues waited with bated breath. He felt a shiver run through her and she uncoiled herself from around him, spasms running through her immense body. The moment they stopped, she spread her wings and took off through a hole in the roof. “Where’d she go?”

 

None of the statues answered, but the thud of stone on marble made Mick turn. All the carved beasts on the stairs had cracks running over their bodies, chunks of stone, wood and metal falling away to reveal scales, fur, and skin. The wyvern who’d kidnapped him, Barry, came trotting up to him, his once stone hide now a vibrant red with yellow marks like lightning down his sides.

 

“You did it!” the wyvern crowed exuberantly, somehow managing to hug a startled Mick with his wings.

 

“I did?”

 

“You have no idea how good it feels to have fur again!” a young female centaur, who had previously been carved in mahogany, gushed, running her fingers through her mane.

 

“And we can finally leave!” another centaur added, a clear familial resemblance between him and the female. “We can go back to the forest and finally see Dad again!”

 

Mick found himself being inundated with heartfelt thanks from a dozen magical beasts. He looked up at the sound of heavy wingbeats. The dragon dropped down through the hole she’d left, landing heavily with her eyes on Mick, a look of wonder on her draconic features.

 

“I can  _ leave! _ ” she exclaimed reverently. Her body began to shift and ripple, and suddenly Mick had a very human, very naked dragon woman flinging herself into his arms to hug him fiercely. “Thank you, thank you thank you!”

 

“S’OK,” he replied gruffly, unclipping his fur cloak so he could rest it around her shoulders. “Y’know, there’s a throne waiting for you back in the capitol.”

 

“Really?” Her brow pinched in surprise and Mick became a little distracted by how beautiful she was. Auburn curls offset porcelain skin, almond eyes framed by thick lashes, no longer sapphire but a warm hazel. She was as stunning as a human as she’d been magnificent as a dragon.

 

“Stein’s been keeping the seat warm for you.”

 

“Marty’s still alive?” Her whole face lit up with pure joy.

 

“Sure. He’s old now, though. I was on my way there for an official meeting with his successor.” He frowned. “Not sure how the kid’s gonna feel when I show up with the rightful Queen.”

 

“We’ll figure something out.” She bit her lip for a moment, studying him. “I’ve been stuck up here for fifty years. If we’re going to travel together, do you think you could catch me up on important things I missed?”

 

“Sure.” He jerked his head at the varied beasts surrounding them. “They coming too?”

 

“Cisco and I are definitely coming,” Barry insisted. “We are your royal guard, after all.”

 

“The rest of us would like to go home,” the female centaur spoke up apologetically. “But once the spring comes, we will come and visit you at the Summer Palace.”

 

“I’d like that, Iris,” the Queen responded fondly. “Alright, Prince Mikhail. We should get going if we want to reach the Capitol by sundown.”

 

“You can call me Mick. And I know you’ve been stuck here a while, but it’s gonna take us a lot more than a day to get there.”

 

She fixed him with a sharp-toothed grin. “Don’t be so sure.”

 

That evening, Mick entered the history books when he arrived at the capitol of Matrice on dragon-back with a wyvern and a sphynx in tow. That dragon turning out to be the kingdom’s Queen, and later his wife, made him a legend.

**Author's Note:**

> Hunter Zolomon is totally the evil sorceror who cursed her.


End file.
